Family Portraits
by SometimesTheyComeBack
Summary: The Wilson family seems perfect from the outside...until the day the father, Peter, confesses to sexually abusing the oldest daughter, Cassie. This is the story of a family falling apart and trying to rebuild itself.


**Cassie**

**2005**

"Cassie, you may come in now, please," Dr. Morton calls into the waiting room. The rest of my family, except for Jade, is already inside his office, here for the "emergency session" that Dr. Morton has ordered. I think--OK, I know--what it's about, but I'm praying that I'm wrong. It has to be something else. I get up mechanically and shuffle over to the doorway of his office. I pause for a second, trying vainly to quell the butterflies in my stomach. _Help me_, I beg silently. _Please, please help me._ Nothing could have prepared me for the sight that assaults my eyes when I open the door. My family is slumped on the various couches and chairs scattered throughout Dr. Morton's office, and...oh, the looks on their faces! _No. Oh, God, please, no_. I try for a smile, which probably comes across as more of a grimace, and sink into a seat across from the rest of them. I sneak glances at each of them in turn, attempting to keep breathing normally. Levi's face is roughly the color of Cream of Wheat, and he is the only one who returns my gaze. His blue eyes, almost the same shade as mine, are anguished. "Cassie..." he mouths, then stops, shaking his head once and looking down. Ben sits stone-faced, clenching and unclenching his fists. He looks like he's debating whether to reach for the paperweight on Dr. Morton's desk and hurl it at the wall. Or maybe at Dad's head. _Oh, Ben..._My little brother was already having a lot of problems with our parents, especially Dad. What will THIS do to him? My throat closes and I can't look at him. Mom is the most outwardly composed of all of them. No surprise there. She's the queen when it comes to concealing emotions. And then there's Dad. I just barely glance at him, not sure I want to look at him yet. His face is streaked with tears. _No, no, no. Please, please let this all be a dream._ Dr. Morton clears his throat. I don't look at him, either, keeping my eyes trained on the navy carpet. "So...now that everyone knows the...ah, situation, I guess we need to talk about what happens next. But first, is there anything you'd like to say, Cassie?" I shake my head vigorously before he's even finished asking the question. "OK, then, Peter, what about you? Is there anything you'd like to say now that your whole family is here?" Dad clears his throat several times, obviously fighting for control. "Cassie, I just...I don't know what to say to you, other than I'm so, so sorry. I never should have...done those awful...awful things to you and..." He stops, weeping. I force myself to look at him. Pure torment is reflected in his eyes, and I feel a sudden stab of compassion. I hate to see him suffering like this, especially over something that wasn't really his fault. "It's OK. I forgive you." "You would," Ben snorts in obvious derision, and Mom drills him with a glare that could fry him. He glares right back, then shoots daggers at Dad with his chocolate-brown eyes. Dad clears his throat again, seemingly oblivious to Ben's malicious stare. "Well, you say that now...but I really don't deserve your forgiveness." "No kidding," Ben mumbles. Levi's jaw tightens, but he says nothing. Dr. Morton launches into a description of the "next steps", and I zone out, staring at the carpet again. I hear bits and pieces, mention of Social Services, a medical exam, Dad being out of the house for a while, weekly or even daily sessions with Dr. Morton for the next couple months. The words swirl around me and I fight to keep them from truly sinking in. _This is all a dream_, I think. _You will wake up and laugh about this later_. But something keeps circling in the back of my mind, a thought that won't stay quiet. After Dr. Morton finishes speaking and the rest of my family lurches to their feet, staring like they've never seen each other before, I whisper tentatively, "Dr. Morton? Can I...can I...um, talk to you for a second? In private?" "Sure, sure," he says, hastily ushering the others out. Then he sits back down behind his desk and motions me to sit closer. "What's on your mind?" The compassion in his hazel eyes is almost more than I can stand. I don't know him very well, since Levi, Ben, and I have only had a few sessions with him, but I trust him. That's why I told him everything in the first place. "Um...well, I'm a little confused about...about what's happening. Or, I mean, what already happened." I fumble for the right words. "I...when I was telling you about, you know, my dad touching me and stuff, I thought I explained to you that I'm pretty sure, I'm actually positive, that I just dreamed the whole thing. Or maybe it was just an accident, you know? So I don't...I don't understand why the rest of my family had to find out. And I definitely don't think we need to see Social Services or anything. It just seems kind of...you know, extreme, considering this was all just an accident." My voice trails off and I wrap a strand of my waist-length coffee-colored hair--exactly the same shade as Dad's--around my finger and twirl. I do that a lot when I'm nervous. Dr. Morton won't look at me. And that's when I know. My stomach drops to the floor and for a moment, I forget how to breathe. "Cassie," he explains, still examining the stack of papers in front of him, "I'm sorry if I...gave you the impression that...well, that the sexual abuse was unintentional or simply a product of your imagination. I'm so very sorry that I didn't explain the situation more fully. You see, what happened when I spoke to your father this morning during my session with him was..." "Did you say 'sexual abuse'?" I interrupt, my voice unrecognizable to my own ears. Dr. Morton sighs and finally looks at me, his eyes misty. "I'm sorry, Cassie. I'm so, so sorry. When your dad came in for his session this morning, I confronted him with the things you had told me and he confessed." "He...confessed?" The room is spinning. "I...I don't understand. You mean, he...he MEANT to do those things to me? Like, he knew what he was doing the whole time? I didn't just...just have a nightmare and dream it all up?" Now I think I really might throw up. I close my eyes tightly and try to remember how to breathe. "Are you all right? Do you need some water?" _Water? WATER? No, I need to wake up from this nightmare_! "Did..." my voice is scarcely more than a whisper. "Did he say...for sure?" "Yes, Cassie," Dr. Morton sighs. He seems to have aged since I saw him two days ago and set this whole process in motion. "Oh," I say faintly. "OK. Well, thanks for clearing that up for me. I guess...I guess I better go. My family's probably waiting..." "Cassie, wait!" Dr. Morton calls as I stumble toward the door. "Are you sure you'll be all right, at least for the rest of the day today? Your mom's coming in for a session on Monday, and I'd be happy to see you as well. Or I can do a special session for you tomorrow, even though I don't normally do that on Sundays." "I...I think I'll be OK. Thanks, though." It's a lie. I'm not OK. I'm not sure if I'll ever be OK again. The door slams behind me, and I hear the sound of my life, cleaving neatly into Before and After.

**MARIANNE** The full impact doesn't hit me until we're halfway home from Dr. Morton's. He had offered to drive us home--the kids and me--and I had nearly laughed at him. Why on earth wouldn't I be able to drive myself? But now, I understand what he meant. My hands are trembling so violently I think I may have to pull over. Levi, sitting in the passenger seat, raises his eyebrows. "Mom, you want me to drive? You look really pale." I manage a wobbly smile, taking a deep breath and forcing myself to hold the steering wheel straight. "No, Honey, that's OK. I'm fine. We'll be home in just a few minutes, anyway." My heart aches for him, my brave oldest. He has always been wise and mature beyond his years, the self-appointed protector of his brother and sisters. He and Peter were never as close as Ben and Peter--as Ben and Peter used to be, that is--but still, I know this is going to devastate him. What 18-year-old could handle knowing that his father... _No, don't think about this now_, I order myself. I know I will lose it if I focus on this at all right now. My mind refuses to cooperate, wandering down avenues better left unexplored. The thoughts beat through my skull, bringing with them a throbbing pain: _my husband is a child abuser. He sexually abused our daughter. He touched her the way he used to touch me. He went into her room and VIOLATED her. He fantasized about sleeping with her._ "Mom?" Levi interrupts my mental self-flagellation. "You're completely pale and you're, like, hyperventilating. I really think you should pull over. Or let me drive." I veer over onto the side of the road and park the car. Calm down, calm down, calm down. I rest my forehead on the steering wheel and focus on breathing in and out, slowly. "Mom?" Cassie's worried voice floats from the backseat. "Mom, are you OK?" "Are any of us OK, Cassie?" Ben asks venomously. "Don't be so dense!" "Shut up, Ben! Just shut your mouth! You say another WORD to Cassie and I will break your jaw!" Levi screams. My normally placid son appears to be coming unglued. I hear Ben muttering, probably something I'd just as soon not hear, and Cassie whimpering. Levi turns back around in his seat and slouches down, his face contorted with fury. _God, what is happening to us? My children..._I know I should say something to comfort them, to try to explain everything, but I'm suddenly so tired I don't think I can even lift my head. How can I explain something to them that I can't understand myself? What possible silver lining can I find in this dark cloud? "At least Dad's moving out tonight," Ben mumbles. There it is: the silver lining. We won't have to face Peter for a while, after this afternoon, which is probably just as well. With the frame of mind Ben is in, he might very well try to stab his father in his sleep. And so, I realize with a sickening jolt, would I. _God, where are You? I don't want to think these horrible thoughts. I LOVE Peter! Help me remember that._ _But do I really love him? After this? _I push the idea away; I can't think about that now. _One step at a time._ I raise my head from the steering wheel. "Let's go home, guys." "Home sweet home," Ben mutters darkly. "Whoop-dee-freaking-do." I ignore him. All I want, right at this moment, is to go home, pull the covers up over my head, and sleep for about five years. Maybe I'd wake up and realize this was all a horrible mistake, or a dream. Because if this is going to be our reality now, I don't know how we'll survive it. **PETER**

I've always known this day was coming. Ever since the first time I touched Cassie three years ago, I knew one day I would confess. I had to; the guilt was overwhelming. All those years of carrying such a shameful, repulsive secret and now...Admitting what I've done certainly hasn't made me feel better, but at least now I know I've been honest about everything. The house is eerily silent as I trudge upstairs and head to the master bedroom to begin packing my things. Dr. Morton said to anticipate at least a two-week stay in a hotel while Social Services finishes their "investigation", but I doubt my family will be ready to have me home anywhere near that quickly. If they ever do... _Not like I deserve their forgiveness. I don't deserve to come home again. _I don't even realize I'm crying again until I notice the teardrops landing in the open suitcase laid out on the bed. Ever since my confession to Marianne and the boys in Dr. Morton's office, I seem to be unable to stop crying for long. I'm normally not an overly sensitive man, but then, I don't normally have to admit to my family that I sexually abused my daughter, either. Just the thought of Cassie and what she must be feeling right now makes my stomach clench, and I run to the master bathroom and throw up. Again. _How could I have done such a thing? HOW could I have been so stupid? So heartless?_ Cassie has always been a Daddy's girl, with the possible exception of the year she was 14, when everything Marianne and I did, said, or wore was personally embarrassing and offensive to her. But she's 16 now and, despite the recent struggles Marianne and I have been having in our marriage, Cassie has gotten closer to both of us. She'll often sit at the kitchen table after supper and talk with us about her day, and she even brings her boyfriend, Will, over occasionally. Unlike Levi and Ben, who rarely even introduce us to their girlfriends, much less invite them over to "hang out" with the family. All that closeness between my oldest daughter and me is going to evaporate now. Not that I'll blame her for it at all; of course not. In fact, it's probably better for everyone. I don't think I could even look her in the eye right now, much less carry on a normal conversation. I just hope she realizes how sorry I am. How I would give anything--my house, my job, my entire life savings--to go back and change the decisions I made on those nights. _If wishes were horses..._ The suitcase on the bed is filled with clothes and toiletries I don't even remember picking up and packing. I zip the suitcase closed, grab my laptop, and walk slowly out of the bedroom and down the hall. I pause in front of the pictures on the wall--family portraits and the kids' school photos. Levi, whose blonde hair and blue eyes give him an uncanny resemblance to Marianne. Cassie, with Marianne's eyes and my dark hair, a striking combination that, coupled with her lithe figure, turns heads almost everywhere she goes. I sigh as I let my gaze rest on Ben's picture. Ben, so much like me, in both looks and temperament. He's growing into quite a handsome young man, with dark hair and eyes, and he'll soon be as tall as Levi and me. But in the past year, our precocious, sensitive 15-year-old has changed into someone I barely recognize. And then there's Jade. Our "surprise child", she's the sunshine of the house with her curly golden hair and sparkling blue eyes. I worry how Jade will handle all of this; at only eight years old, there's no way she'll be able to understand, and Marianne probably won't try to explain much of it, either. At least, not until Jade's a little older. This is all such a mess...and it's only going to get worse. _What have I done?_

**CASSIE** Dad's nowhere to be seen when we get home. He's already packed his stuff and left, leaving a note for Mom on the bar with the number for the hotel where he's staying. There's another note, too, only two sentences long: I love you. I'm so sorry. Ben grabs it out of Mom's hands and rips it to shreds as soon as he reads it. "I hate his guts!" he screams. "I hope he gets into a car accident and DIES!" He takes off running towards his room, and Mom follows, screaming right back. "Benjamin Michael! You get back here right now! You will NOT talk about your father that way, do you understand me?" Levi and I stand there staring awkwardly at each other, listening to Mom and Ben yelling at each other from upstairs. "Cass, I just...I wanted to tell you that...you know, I'm really sorry about...well, everything..." "Thanks. It's no big deal, though. I'm just sorry that...well, that's it's going to cause so many problems, you know?" "That's the last thing you need to worry about right now, Cassie. I mean, gosh, I can't even imagine what...what you must be going through right now. It's going to be hard enough for the rest of us, but for you..." "Levi, it's OK. I'm fine. Really. I'm just...I'm worried about Ben. He's so angry, you know? And Mom...can you IMAGINE how hard this is going to be for her? And Jade. How are we going to explain this to her? I mean, she goes over to spend the day at Sarah's house on Saturday morning, and then she comes home at night and Dad's gone? And we have no idea when he'll be coming back? How is she supposed to be able to understand that?" Tears start streaming down my face, despite my efforts to hold them back. "Hey, hey, don't cry," Levi whispers, putting an arm around my shoulder. "It's going to be OK. I'll keep an eye on Ben and Mom...well, Mom's an amazingly strong woman, Cassie. Yeah, this is going to be a living hell for her, but she'll get through it. And we'll all do our best to explain things to Jade. You just take care of you, sweetie. Promise me you won't keep all this inside? You're one of the strongest people I know, Cass, and I know you'll make it through this. We all will. But you have to be willing to let people in and help you. OK?" "OK." I'm perilously close to losing it. "Thanks, Leev. I'm going to go change and...go over to Will's. Will you tell Mom for me? If she asks?" "You mean if the rebel without a cause upstairs stops screaming at her anytime soon?" Levi asks with a wry smile. "Sure, I'll tell her. And I'll try to talk to Ben later, too; get him to calm down a little." I manage a wobbly smile for him and flee upstairs. Mom and Ben are still fighting, although not screaming as much as they were at first. My head is pounding violently and my stomach is churning. I run to the bathroom and throw up until there's nothing left in my stomach. I rest my head on the cool tile of the bathroom floor until the room stops spinning around me. _Please make this stop..._ When I feel strong enough, I stand up shakily, brush my teeth and splash some water on my face, and stagger down the hall to my room. I lock the door--_why didn't I think to do that three years ago? Then none of this would've happened_--and change into my favorite jeans and warmest sweater. It hasn't snowed yet this year, but it's been unusually cold for mid-January. Besides, Will loves it when I wear dark blue; he says it makes my eyes stand out._ Will. Oh, God, what am I going to tell him? _"Just tell him the truth," I order the girl in the mirror, scrutinizing my reflection. _But what if he hates me? What if he breaks up with me? Cassie, why would he break up with you over something that wasn't even your fault? _"But he'll think I'm so...disgusting if I tell him. I mean, how am I supposed to tell him that the farthest I've ever gone has been with my DAD? That's so...so..." I stop myself and try to think about something else. Anything else. I can't let myself believe that all this is really happening. There has to be some mistake. I need to see Will. Now. I text him as I shove a change of clothes and a hairbrush into my backpack and he texts back to say he's home alone all weekend. Perfect. Not that I don't like Will's parents--his mom, especially, is great--but I feel like I will literally fall apart if I have to speak to anyone other than Will right now. I grab my stuff and practically run to the car, calling a goodbye over my shoulder to Levi, who's sitting at the kitchen table, brooding. I make it to Will's house in record time and the second I walk into the living room and see him sprawled on the couch, I burst into tears. He scrambles up and pulls me close. "Honey, what's wrong?" "My dad...he..." I'm sobbing so hard I can't begin to form a coherent sentence. "Shh, Cass. It's OK. Calm down. Just take a few deep breaths and tell me what's going on." He leads me over to the couch and holds me until I gain a modicum of control. "OK." I take a deep breath. "My dad moved out this afternoon. We're not sure when he's coming back." Will's eyes, so dark blue they're nearly black, widen in shock. "Are you serious? Oh my God, Cass! What...I mean, why...what happened?" I look into his eyes and realize, _I can't do this. I can't tell him_. "I don't know. He and my mom have been having some problems, but I don't know why he all of a sudden decided to move out like that. Mom and I were at the mall and when we came home, he was gone. He left a note for her, and she said she doesn't know when he's coming back." It's surprisingly easy to invent this story; I never thought I'd be able to lie so convincingly, at least not to Will. But he seems to believe me, tightening his arms around me and kissing my forehead. "I'm so sorry," he whispers. "It's OK. I'm sure he'll come home soon. They'll work everything out. Thanks for letting me vent; I think I just needed to cry it all out, you know?" "Anything you need," he promises. He's the most amazing guy; he really is. We've been together for a year, which is like three years when you're in high school. I try not to think about what's going to happen next year when he graduates, a year ahead of me, and goes on to college. His parents aren't home, so it doesn't take long before we're making out. We have a pattern: we kiss until he tries to sneak his hand under my shirt, or unzips my jeans, and then I push him away. I love Will, but I'm scared of going too far. I've always wanted to save sex for marriage; having been raised going to Sunday School and church, I figure it's the right thing to do. When I was 12, my dad gave me a promise ring, and I've never taken it off. It's a commitment I've made--to God and to myself--but now... _Why should I keep my end of this bargain? God's sure not keeping His. What kind of God lets a father TOUCH his daughter? Couldn't He have protected me? Made him stop? Woke my mom up so she realized what was going on? _I pull away from Will for a minute, inching the ring off my finger. "Is that the ring your dad gave you?" "Yeah. It's a purity ring or whatever." _Purity. Right, like I'm so pure. My own father wanted to have sex with me! Pretty much cancels out the idea of purity, doesn't it, God?_ A wave of fury surges through me, so hot it sears the back of my throat. I toss the ring on the coffee table, enraged. _I can't believe You would let this happen to me! To my family! Forget it, God...all bets are off! You weren't there for me when I needed You, so why should I even listen to You anymore?_ And then I'm the one pushing against Will for more, and when he fumbles for the clasp on my bra, I don't push him away like I normally would. He hesitates a fraction of a second. "Are...are you sure?" I hear my mother's voice in my head: if a guy has to ask you if you're sure, it's wrong. I push the thought away and kiss him back, unbuttoning his shirt. "Of course I'm sure. You know how much I love you, right?" "Probably not half as much as I love you." His fingers leave trails of fire on my skin. "You're so beautiful, Cassie." _Don't be afraid, sweetie. Daddy would never hurt you. You're such a beautiful girl, you know?_ I tangle my fingers in Will's hair, pulling him closer, his hands fluttering against the valley of my spine. _Get out of my head_, I order the memory. _Just...leave me alone. I don't want to think about this_. And then most of our clothes are strewn on the floor and we're tangled together on the couch. "We can stop right now," Will gasps. "We don't have to go any further, if you don't want to." I smile playfully at him. "Do you WANT to stop?" "I'd rather be thrown to a pack of hungry wolves," he grins back. "But I know this is a big step for you...for us...so if you're not ready...I understand." Instead of answering, I pull him closer and kiss him as slow and deep as I can. _Shhh, Honey. This is a secret for just you and me, ok? Now lie still...This doesn't hurt, right? It feel good when I touch you like this, doesn't it?_ _STOP IT!_ Nausea churns in my stomach as I realize that I've felt this way before; my body remembers how this feels. HE touched me like this three years ago and it felt so good_....I must really have been a slut, even back then, _I think_. How could I have thought it felt good for my dad to touch me like that? Oh my God..._ Will must have noticed me stiffen. "Honey, what's wrong?" "Nothing," I grind out between clenched teeth, trying to force the memory away. "Just do it, Will. I'm scared it's going to hurt, so can we please just get it over with?" That's a lie, but he seems to buy it. I turn my head and stare at the pattern of the couch so Will won't see me flinch and realize that he's hurt me. It doesn't hurt nearly as much as I thought it would, but then, I'm not paying too much attention to any of this. Because in front of my eyes, another scene is unfolding, three years away from Will's couch. In that scene, I'm younger and it's later at night. And I'm scared. _Not like now. Except... Wait... Which scene am I in? Is Daddy here? Is this Will...or is it Daddy? Where am I?_ Suddenly it's over and I lie there, trembling and confused. Will reaches over to stroke my hair and I feel myself--I guess it's me, now? Not the girl from the bedroom scene?--jerk away. "Daddy, don't hurt me," I whimper. Will yanks his hand away as if I've burned him. "What the hell are you talking about?" "Nothing...it's nothing...." "Cassie, what is going on? You just said..." "Will, _please_! Just let it go...please." "OK, OK," he soothes. "It's OK. I'm sorry if I hurt you...you know...before..." "No," I sigh. "_You_ didn't." He doesn't catch the emphasis in my words, and after a few minutes, he gets up to go take a shower. "You coming?" he asks. "In a minute. I just want to stay here for a little while." He bends over and caresses my cheek. "I love you so much, Cassie. You know that, right?" I nod, unable to speak past the lump in my throat. The scene is still playing--me, younger, lying in bed with my nightgown hiked up nearly to my shoulders, and..._Make this stop._ It doesn't. I wonder if it ever will.I roll over onto my stomach and cry. _I'm sorry..._


End file.
